Warriors
by Tranquillity's Chaos
Summary: There is a war coming, that is like nothing else anyone has ever seen. Previously, the worlds were kept separate for this very reason, but now, nothing will stand between the conflict. The Gods, their fallen, and everyone in between. Dead, alive, or heartless. HP, Twilight, Hellsing, FMA, KH/FF, MLP, DN, Crows, Beelzebub, Avatar/LOK, Naruto, Supernatural.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello world. As you may, although probably do not, know, I am Blaize Tarnish. My account is Tranquillity's Chaos, and this fan fiction is called **_**Warriors.**_** Before I attempt to go any further, I would just like to say that you should keep an eye out for my name and the title 'Tranquillity's Chaos' in the future. I'll make it big one day! I will. **

**Anywhore, this fan fiction is called **_**Warriors.**_** It is what one would call a MEGA-CROSSOVER. And for a bloody good reason. To give it a reason, I'll just say that it will feature characters, plot and general verse from THIRTEEN different verses. **

**Yeah. **

**Here's a list of the featured verses:**

**Avatar: Last Air-bender**

**- : Legend of Korra**

**Beelzebub**

**Crows**

**Death Note**

**Final Fantasy**

**Fullmetal Alchemist**

**Hellsing**

**Kingdom Hearts**

**My Little Pony**

**Naruto**

**Supernatural**

**Twilight**

**Summery of **_**Warriors**_** (extended): To wield a wand, a key blade, an element, alchemy, sword, wrench, demon baby, gun, the power of Christ, a vampire, kunai, or note. To be human, wizard, monster, supernatural being, paranormal being, ninja, pony, demon, angel, homunculus, bender, heartless, nobody, somebody, or delinquent. To belong to a group, a house, a pack, organization, flock, team or nation. To wield, to be, to belong. We are all something, and we all have something. But when there is conflict, we will fight, and when we fight, there will be war. But to war once again, whilst there is one between the gods, and another between their fallen, is a risk that not all are willing to take. Never-the-less, a treaty more than a thousand years old is about to be broken, truth come to light, and doors that once separated each world will be unlocked. For better, or for worse. **

**Summery of **_**Warriors**_** (normal): To wield, to be, to belong. We are all something, and we all have something. But when there is conflict, we will fight, and when we fight, there will be war. But to war once again, whilst there is one between the gods, and another between their fallen, is a risk that not all are willing to take. Never-the-less, a treaty more than a thousand years old is about to be broken, truth come to light, and doors that once separated each world will be unlocked. For better, or for worse. **

**The actual fucking summery: There is war, that is like nothing else anyone has ever seen. Previously, the worlds were kept separate for this very reason, but now, nothing stands between the conflict. The Gods, their fallen, and everyone in between. Dead, alive, or heartless. HP, Twilight, Hellsing, FMA, KH, FF, MLP, DN, Crows, Beelzebub, Avatar/LOK, Naruto, Supernatural. **

**Yeah, well, I should actually write the chapter now. Um, I am not actually crystal clear on the future and plot, but I assure you, this will take precedence over other fics. I'm aiming for a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery long fic, with at least one sequel. Yay. **

**Dedication: Phobos. You faggot. : )**

**So, after wasting a page on AN's, without further adu, I present CHAPTER ONE. OMG.**

* * *

**Chapter One: Declare, and prepare.**

* * *

"Hey, Colonel-bastard."

Roy's eyebrow twitched, an angry slant adorning his handsome face. "That's Fuhrer to you, Fullmetal. You'd better not forget."

"Eh, whatever. I hate to burst your bubble, but you won't have that authority over me much longer." Ed replied, flopping down onto the leather couch in the Fuhrers office. "That's the reason I'm here."

Fuhrer Mustang's brow scrunched up, confusion and annoyance quickly washing away all traces of anger. "I wasn't aware you were being transferred, Fullmetal. That said, you aren't."

Edward rolled his eyes, his head lolling back to rest on the back of the couch. "I'm resigning, bastard. You're getting old, but this is just too soon."

Ignoring Edward's lame jest at his age, Roy stood, casually ignoring the mountain of paperwork which sat neglected. It would seem that something's never really changed, after all.

Sighing, Roy's eyes slid closed as he turned to face the large, floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk. His arms folded behind his back, the blinding summer sun framing his tall figure, making Edward feel even smaller than usual.

"I'm sorry, Edward. But while you may have all intent to resign, I can't allow you to. Not right now." Roy spoke, his voice was soft but firm. What really caught Ed's attention was the use of his actual name, not his state title. He would have become irate, if it weren't for the tone of resignation in his superiors voice.

Arching a golden eyebrow, Ed waited for the Fuhrer to continue, and he did.

"You see, you couldn't have chosen a worse time, Fullmetal. As I'm sure you know, relations with Xing have always been a little, for lack of a better word, rocky. As with the desert crossing and of course the distrust that would be fair in all accounts. That said, we aren't actually at _odds _with them."

Edward let his gaze fall from the ceiling to Roy, not understanding where the conversation was heading. "Yes…"

"Relations with Aerugo, Creta and Drachma, are different. As I am sure you know." Roy muttered, continuing. "It would seem that even with the decentralization of Creta, it has enough sense in it's leaders to have formed an agreement that they need to form an alliance."

"That is honestly one of the most surprising things I have heard all day." Edward chuckled mirthlessly at the thought of Amestris' enemies. Enemies of the state.

"Yes, well, my reaction wasn't too different. Nor was Hawkeye's, for that matter. Needless to say, they aren't seeking a treaty with us. Instead, they have sought out Drachma."

There were no words spoken after this, but it was obvious to both that it was not a good situation.

"Not to sound arrogant, Colonel, but neither are a match for Amestris. Creta can barely agree on what language should be it's national, let alone plan for a war."

"While that is true, Fullmetal, they have proved to be vicious in the past. Surely you know of the blood spilt by both sides?" Roy ignored the slight to his position, inwardly accepting the fact that Edward never would give up using his previous ranking.

"It's common knowledge. That said, I don't see a reason for concern. While Drachma is certainly a step up, they aren't much more than an annoyance. You remember the failed attack on Briggs Fortress. Their army verses no more than a bunch of drunken station posts." His voice was full of contempt when he spoke, and if Roy had turned to meet the gaze of the younger, he would have seen the humour that brimmed at Edwards eyes.

"You are once again, unsurprisingly, correct." Roy said, opening his eyes to glance out at Central City. "What you don't realise though, is that Drachma have almost levelled the playing field in Military tactics, and have since enlisted more ranks, far beyond what we could hope to achieve. That alone isn't what worries me, no, it would have to be that while they have an Alliance with Creta, it would seem that not a week ago, another was signed with Aerugo."

At this, Edward sat up. While not overly worried, a sudden foreboding feeling had sunk into his chest, slowly weighing him down. And if he were to listen to it, and remember the last time he'd encountered such a sensation, just before, and he would never admit this, his attempt at _human transmutation_, then he'd be damned if he was involved.

"…do you think their planning something? An attack on Amestris?" Ed asked, quietly.

"It's highly possible. So in preparation, or just general precautions, I have taken the liberty of sending Alphonse as an Ambassador to Xing. According to his reports, the chances of an Alliance between Xing and Amestris are highly likely."

Despite the fact that Mustang had just gone ahead and sent his brother away to a foreign country, one that they didn't really know _anything_ about, Edward tried not to be angry. He knew that Alphonse could take care of himself, and if he couldn't, May would. After all, Alphonse had just turned nineteen, and while he mightn't have been in his Armour body anymore, he could still beat Edward in a fight.

"Well I don't see what's got you all flustered. You finally doing the dirty with Miss Hawkeye? I made a bet with Breda, seems I'll have t-"

"If you would kindly shut the _hell_ up, Edward, I could be able to explain why things aren't as peachy as you'd like to think." Roy snapped, his eyes shut tight and hands clenched. "Even with an Allegiance between Xing and ourselves, a_ Triple Entente _between Aerugo, Creta and Drachma is not a good sign. Their combined Military forces are a worry, and it only gets worse as we are preparing to send out four State Alchemists and number of soldiers to an embassy in a foreign land in less than a week. If the meeting goes as expected, we will be loosing a far larger number of men to what will likely be another war."

"If thing's are this bad, why did you wait until now to say anything?!" Edward shot up, his blonde braid swinging behind him, golden eyes glinting with anger.

Roy snorted. "Because, Fullmetal. A nation in a state of panic, while it's Government tries to fend off attacks on two sides, is not something we need. Only those who are immediately involved have been told, and, you."

Ed shook his head, a scowl worming it's way onto his face. "I'm not going to pretend that I understand, but that aside, why does this mean I _can't_ resign? Despite the fact that its illegal to try stop me."

"I'm the bloody Fuhrer, Ed, I can do what I want." Roy's words brought back unpleasant memories of Fuhrer Grumman. "The reason I can't allow you to leave is because if our suspicions are proved correct, than we will need alliances, treaties and strict training to our army. We can't send any-old State Alchemist, or Officer, because the job of Ambassador requires skill, tact, intelligence and power. Unfortunately, there are not many people in the Military that possess those traits."

"I'm flattered. You implied I have tact." Edward muttered. "Why can't you just send someone who isn't in the Military? Alphonse isn't! Why'd you ship him off to Xing?!"

"Your brother is in Xing because he has a relationship with May Chang, which will make it easier to form an alliance. Xing is also a far larger country, in army and power, we cannot afford to start a war with them, and your temperance is a volatile thing. That leaves yourself, and a handful of others who fit the job."

"Send them then." Edward muttered, stubbornly jutting his chin out and crossing his arms. If it weren't such a serious situation, Roy would have laughed at the childishness of his subordinate.

"I already have." Roy said, turning back to face Edward. He wanted to see his reaction. "To different countries."

And it was priceless. The full realization of the _scale_ of the problem.

"…different…countries?"

Roy dipped his head. "Yes, as in, more than one."

"How many are we talking about..?"

"Oh, it's a little hard to define that, Fullmetal. But, I'll tell you one thing. It's out of this world."

* * *

Angry, impatient, curious and agitated, was Edward Elric. Pacing backwards and forth, he slowly wore what Hawkeye felt would be a very noticeable rut into the carpet.

Fuhrer Mustang had not had the chance to explain what he meant by 'Out of this world', as a visitor had arrived at the main office. Something about the smirk on his face when Hawkeye announced that one, 'Albus Dumbledore' was waiting, had put Edward on guard. As much as that look had made him want to run, he knew nothing could stand between him and whatever Colonel Bastard had in stall.

He just hoped it wasn't a waste of time.

Unlike the five years he'd spent being a dog of the Military, looking for the Philosophers stone, Edward wasn't about to allow himself to be dragged into another fruitless search for something that may not even exist. Five years of near-death experiences, serial killers, taboo's, maniacal teachers, supernatural beings and corrupt Government officials, not mention a very easily anger Winry Rockbell, had been enough for him.

Never again, no sir-ree.

Somehow he didn't believe his life would be peaceful for a very, very long-time.

Now though, Hawkeye had taken the liberty of announcing that this strange visitor, whom Ed had yet to actually see, was waiting for Edward, alongside a very smug Fuhrer.

The nerve.

"Fullmetal." The Fuhrer greeted, a sly smile on his face. Behind Edward, the wooden door slammed.

"Fuhrer Mustang," he greeted. Begrudgingly he saluted, a rigid look upon his face. Even though he wasn't respectful, he knew when it was required. Lest he make whatever Mustang had for him, worse.

"Fullmetal, this is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster, this is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Witchcraft? Wizardry? _Hogwarts_?

Wait, woah. Woah. Hold on a sec, is he wearing….robes?

Horrible, yellow and blue robes? With _ducks_ on them?

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, Edward kept silent. Part of him screamed for answers, but at twenty years old, he knew when to stay quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Headmaster Dumbledore." He said, his voice clear and respectful.

Bright blue eyes twinkled with harmless amusement. "Like-wise, my boy, like-wise." The old man replied, watching the way Edward just stared at them.

Clearing his throat, Roy sent Edward a warning look. 'Don't say _anything_.'

"Now, as I am sure you are wondering, Fullmetal, there is in fact a reason for this meeting. It has to do with our unfinished conversation from this morning."

Edward nodded slowly, looking from the Headmaster, to the bastard. He did _not_ like where this was going.

"As I was saying, we have sent a handful of operatives from all divisions to a variety of countries. If I remember correctly, I left you at mentioning something 'out of this world'?"

Edward began to grit his teeth, his annoyance rising. "Yes, and to this minute, I am still not sure what the _hell_ you are on about."

Dark eyes glinted at Edward, the mans hands twitching, ready to spark. It did nothing to idly the irritation in Edward.

"Perhaps, I should explain?" the Headmaster interrupted, having noticed the heated and doubtlessly irate looks between the two.

Roy pursed his lips and nodded. "That may be a better idea, Headmaster."

Edward raised an eyebrow, finding it odd that Roy would treat this supposed stranger with such familiarity. As though he were a friend, almost. At that point, he realized he was still standing.

It would seem that Albus shared a similar thought at the same moment.

"Why don't you sit down, Mr Elric?" he said, a small smile at his lips. Something about the old man put Edward on edge, but it wasn't out of fear, yet instead something about the man seemed odd. As though he didn't belong. Never-the-less, for the most part, harmless.

He grunted, and complied, allowing himself to flop onto the same couch he had lounged in a mere hour ago.

"Now, as the Fuhrer was saying, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, located in Scotland, Britain. Do you know where that is?"

As much as it pained him to say, he did not. "No, it isn't on this continent, is it?"

The old man smiled, "No, Edward, it isn't."

Brow furrowed, arms crossed, Edward sat and listened. And no, as the words flowed from Albus Dumbledores mouth, he did not believe any of it. How could Magic be real? It defied God and the laws of nature. Even if he himself did not like, or even consider God to be anything but scum, he could not deny the existence of an all-powerful being. And he dreaded the day he could finally meet his maker. His last day, in which he would not be given a chance to get away.

And to think that if what this old man says is in fact truth, that there is a whole civilization that revolves around the mystery of Magic? That there is a whole other _world_…

Damn that Mustang. Damn him to hell.

On another continent, it would seem, a whole other type of world, but on the same level as Amestris, operated. People who spoke different languages, had different cultures, some far, far more advanced, and others still nearby the stone age. And none of them possessed Alchemy _or _Magic. For this Magical world to exist behind the scenes, hidden in the very view, on the very same land as so many others was almost inconceivable to Edward. But he could tell, and it scared him, it did, he could tell that Albus Dumbledore, was not lying. Not one bit.

Roy watched the expressions that flitted across his subordinates face. The emotions, the thoughts and then the fearful curiosity. He could understand the disbelief upon Edwards face, in his mind, and the utter anguish the filled him upon hearing of the sort of power the these Wizards could wield. Not even that could have prepared him for the thoughts of other _worlds_, more literal in some senses.

But the fearful, strangely curious look. It wasn't something he anticipated. Fear? Why? _Why_?

What gave Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, and only person to ever live, aside from his father, after performing Human Transmutation _and _facing off against _God_-

-a reason to fear?

What?

Part of him truly did not wish to know.

"Magic. Okay, I'll humour you for now. What does this have to do with me? Aside from the fact that it deify's all and any laws of Nature and God, and it is completely unexplainable, why would you come all the way here to tell me all about it? You didn't mention anything to do with myself nor the Military, and you can't suddenly pop up and tell me I wasn't locatable for seven years, thus meaning I'd missed my chance at Hogwarts. So what's the deal?"

Albus nodded, he could see Edwards point. Bringing a gnarled, and aged hand up to his beard, he idly twisted the silvery strands.

"I know you may think that what I have told you was a long and arduous deal, but I fear that what I have to say next will be more trying. Before I start, would you like a lemon drop?" Albus said, producing a yellow silken bag from out of nowhere ('Magic?' Edwards mind wondered.)

Edward eyed the bag suspiciously, watching as Colonel Bastard politely declined.

"No, thank you, sir."

"Very well," the old man replied. Nodding to himself as he stowed the bag away into a hidden pocket upon his blindingly yellow and blue robes.

Wizards, I tell yah.

"Now, as you now know, the Wizarding World is spread out across the Muggle World." Dumbledore said, shifting slightly in his strange robs. "We exist in all cities, all countries, and everywhere that man has ever trod. Wizards and Witches are not confined to any country, culture, language or belief," he said, raising a wrinkly finger.

"There are schools all across the Muggle World, hidden by spells and charms that make it unseen and undetectable to the Muggle. We have existed since the beginning of time, alongside Muggle's. Once, a very, very long time ago, ('I'm sure you were there,' Edwards mind interrupted rudely.) Warlocks and alike existed in harmony with the 'mudpeople', as they were once called. However, with the coming of Christ, and assorted Religions that abolished the use of Magicks, our Muggle counterparts soon turned upon us, and forced us to flee from the public and into hiding. Immediately after, the castle of Hogwarts was built. It's original purpose still stands to this day- one of a school. However, many found that they had no safe place to live and such ended up accompanying their children to the School. It was then that the first magical texts began, compiled by the idle hands of mothers and fathers. Yet, for a hundred years, most did not even consider shipping their children off to an unknown place. It was then, a hundred years after the birth of Christ, that the very first Witch Hunts began."

Internally, Edward winced, he could sense where this was going. He didn't think to look at Roy.

"We were hunted down, forced from our homes and burnt to death- in paddocks, town centres, castles, battlegrounds, cemeteries and even at Stonehenge. It spread fear through the populous, made people anxious, scared, jittery. People became recluse, withdrawn and would often band together, living miles away from any road. If someone was suspected of Witchcraft, even if they were in no way Magical, they were lynched and burned at the Stake. Soon, drowning, cliff-throwing and stoning followed."

A sombre, almost sorrowful looked adorned the Headmasters face, "All because we were different. We had something they could not explain. We could not comply with their wishes to end all use of Magic."

Edward glanced at Roy, doing a double take upon seeing the deathly shade of grey the other had gone.

'Oh,' Edward though. '_Oh…._Ishval..'

Thankfully for Roy, the Headmaster seemed lost in his thoughts, like he were reliving a memory, as he continued to speak.

"Over the past thousand years, we have adapted. We now thrive as one. Surprisingly, some countries are even mildly open about Magic use, but they are older forms of magic. More primitive, most commonly used by drifters, gypsies and seers. Or, paranormal and supernatural investigators."

"So, despite all the torture your people endured, you are now back and healthy, hidden from the world that tried to extinguish you. You haven't answered my question."

"No, Edward, I haven't." The Headmaster sighed, and for some reason, Edward felt it wasn't an action commonly, or ever, associated with the man. "I am getting old, as I am sure it is obvious. Over my hundred and twenty five years- Yes, Edward, I am _old_,- I have seen many things. I have fought in wars, three to be precise, I have seen evil and good alike and I have unfortunately been there as two of the worst people in History have risen. I have not spoken of this to many people, but I feel it is prudent for you both to hear this." Albus cleared his throat, and raised his eyes to meet Edwards golden ones.

"I grew up with a boy called Gellert Grindwald. We were childhood best friends and like brothers. To makes things simple, Gellert became entranced with the Dark Arts, and soon, combined with his immense power, a new evil rose. Dark Lords, although not uncommon, had never spread fear like Gellert did. I refused his request to join him, of course. I myself am an ardent follower of light, although I do not begrudge those who aren't, merely those who harm others. After twenty years of war, and fear, Gellert was imprisoned in Russia. He remained there to this day, and despite everything, I have visited him many a time and can still have amicable, childish conversations with him."

Incredulous, Edward stared. He just stared. What do you say to that? How do you even react to that?

This Grindwald, as implied, was obviously a very bad man. And the self-proclaimed leader of the light seemed to sit town and have tea with the man.

In his mind, Edward could imagine the gossip session that would commence.

'_Oh, how are you? Do you like your cell? I'm sure we could get you a nice fluffy blanket if you find it too cold.'_

'_Oh, I'm great. Had a good yarn with one of the Guards the other day. Did you know so-and-so's wife is pregnant?'_

'_No! Really? I always thought she was having an affair with the Rodney fellow.'_

'_That's the thing Albus, I don't think it's so-and-so's baby.'_

'_Ooooohhh, how naughty of them. What did so-and-so say? You don't think…'_

"If that is so, Headmaster, why does your expression show of pain?" Mustangs deep voice interrupted whatever Gellert was sure to say.

The twinkle was gone, blue eyes cast down to the carpet.

"After the shock of Gellerts reign, and his subsequent halt to power, I promised myself I would never allow another child to fall to the darkness. My best friend showed me what it could do."

"…but you did, didn't you?" Edward whispered, unable to bring himself to disrupt the silence that weighed them down. It felt so wrong.

"Yes, Edward, I did. You see, there are people called Muggle-borns. People whom have no known Magical heritage, an anomaly in themselves. Then, there are people who are half-bloods, they have one Pure-blood parents, and another who is of a lower status- magical or not. Thomas Riddle, was one such half-blood." Dumbledore said, remembering the name, the face, and the dedication which would kill many more than Gellert ever did. "As per Hogwarts custom, if a person lives in a Non-magical home, a member of staff will accompany their Hogwarts letter to the residence. The residence that Mr Riddles letter was addressed to, was an Orphanage. A horrible place, truly desolate of love. I should have known, when I saw the look in the eleven year old eyes, that no good could come of him. That I should have tried harder, had him see someone, anything."

"Headmaster, who _is _Thomas Riddle?"

The old man sat up, regaining his early stance. Tall, confidence, and good.

"Fuhrer Mustang, I will be frank. Edward, I have met with the Fuhrer on several occasion to speak of the coming war. As I know you know, relations with other countries of your continent are not in your favour. In the past, Amestris has had relations with the Ministry of Magical Britain. Unfortunately, it did not end on a light note. The door from the Central Command Centre to the Ministry of Magic has been sealed indefinitely. I am here, to seek the help of Amestris, and in return, my Order will send support for Amestris to aid in the War you will fight. I ask in return, that you Edward Elric, come with me to Britain, and teach Defence Against the Dark Arts- as your cover of course. Your true purpose is to ensure the safety of the Hogwarts student from an attack which I fear will surmount before the end of this school year."

"No." It was simple. No. Edward had seen enough of War, and blood, and death in his short lifetime. Another War would do no good. He'd have none of it.

Albus leaned forwards, momentarily blocking out the previously warm sun. Looking past him, out the large windows, he realised that gone was the warmth, replaced with cold, foreboding grey clouds. "But my boy, you don't even know why I'm asking you."

Edward scoffed, body tense. This conversation was heading in a direction he had sworn to Winry he would never be involved with, never again. He couldn't break a promise, not to Winry. "Tell me then, old man, tell me why you want me to put my life at danger for a bunch of children who possess unearthly, ungodly powers. Tell me why you can't protect them, yourself."

"Because, I fear, and I believe this is indeed true, that I will not see to the end of the year. There is a plot, one of many, that is to see my death. I understand that is needed, for both sides. And I have no qualms. But to leave my students defenceless, is a true crime. My staff can only do so much. I have faith in them, Severus, Minerva, Filius, Hagrid, Pomona, I know they would fight to the death for our students. But to take the risk that their lives could be claimed, is not one I will rest easy with."

He was trying to reason, anyone could have seen it. Albus Dumbledore, Roy realised, was a desperate man. One who truly had nowhere else to go. No one to help him.

"You have a fixation with avoiding my questions, don't you, old man." Edward spat, uncaring if the old man truly was at his wits end, unable to do anything more. It didn't matter. For him to even comply would be thrusting Amestris into another war, civil, or worldly. It would be breaking a promise, to Winry, to Alphonse...to Trisha and Izumi...

Unfortunately for Edward, Roy had had enough of his disrespect. It was not only embarrassing to the Nation herself, but a direct insult to guest _and_ potential ally.

"Fullmetal, that is enough." The Fuhrer snapped, his right hand waving with the desire to snap. "If you don't show proper respect I'll have you court marshalled."

"I've already told you, bastard! I resign, effective immediately! I will not be a dog of the military any longer! I have a life! A _family_!" Edward screamed it, he did. His words, loud and clear, shocked Roy, because the emotions behind them were forceful, not just full of irritation. Something was bothering Edward, and whatever it was, was a cause for concern.

"It's quite alright, Fuhrer. Young Edward reminds me much of one of my pupils, I believe, if he gave the time to know this young man, they would become good friends."

"Well, seeing as you won't answer my question, the fate of your students mustn't mean much to you, at all."

"No, wait, Edward." Something in his voice, maybe the desperation, the age or maybe, just maybe, the fear, stopped Edward in his tracks, his heavy combat boots planted in one spot, his shoulders tense below his trademark red coat.

"The reason I fear for their safety, runs far further than for just my students. Just children. The Wizarding world is at war, my boy. A war of the worst kind. Fear is what runs our world, corruption encasing the minds of power and law. I fear, that Lord Voldemort will rise once more. A prophecy…one spoken by a seer I am proud to have in my staff, foresaw the fall of the Dark Lord at the hand of a mere child. It rang true, and the Wizarding world rejoiced at the loss of one of the darkest periods in history. Yet, Lord Voldemort may not be as dead as we once believed."

The Headmasters explanation was a fearful one. If the possibility of the dead coming back to life, was in fact possible.

"The dead cannot simply come back to life, once dead, always dead. That's the way the world works. It's unnatural, unholy, for it not."

"Unholy indeed." Albus said, gravely. "Edward, do you know what a demon is?"

Edward eyed him suspiciously. Anything Supernatural is something he'd stay well away from. "I think most people are familiar with the concept.."

"There are many forms of demons, Mr Elric. There are Kitsune, Heartless, Nobodies, Unversed, Banshee, Shinigami, Bogart, Dementor, and of course, Homunculus. Among a variety of Hell inhabitant demons."

He grit his teeth, Golden eyes angry. It was a waste of his time, these people just couldn't take a fucking no. "…..you're getting on my nerves old man, and that is not a good thing."

Albus tried to smile, he really did. To Roy though, it resembled a frown, an upset grimace.

To Edward though, he immediately felt bad. Albus Dumbledore was a broken man.

"I'm sorry," Edward muttered, not looking at Dumbledore. It wasn't often he'd utter those two words, and to even less a number of people. But he did mean it. "Why, though? Why do you fear this Dark Lord so much?"

"It's simple, but so horrible complex." The Headmaster told him, clasping his withered hands together, allowing Edward to see a flash of what looked like fully burnt skin. He looked back at the water blue eyes of the Headmaster, and before he had even uttered those words, Edward knew that Winry was going to be so, so angry with him. So much for keeping a promise..

"I have reason to believe that Thomas Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, has essentially sold his soul, to the devil."

* * *

**Well, that was fucking fun. I think that's about 5700 words or a little more, I'm not sure. Thirteen pages, and written over two days. I'm not sure if I really like this chapter, although I don't hate it. It serves it's purpose, really. **

**Anyway, as you will have noticed, this fic is filed under HP and FMA. In the next chapter, although I haven't decided yet, I will probably start with Naruto, Death Note or Avatar/Legend of Korra. **

**Yep. So indecisive. **

**Anyway, please let me know what you think, and R&R. Or just the second R because you've already read this so yeah...**

**Oh, and, If you can answer this question, I will take time out of my unhealthy lifestyle, and exam prep time, to write out a four page story of what the plot is. **

**So, Q: Edward said, **_It would be breaking a promise, to Winry, to Alphonse...to Trisha and Izumi..._ - **Who are Trisha and Izumi?  
And yes, his mum and teacher respectively. But THEY are deceased, so ...who is Eddy talkin' about?**

**-TC**


	2. Chapter 2

**I said that this would take priority over everything else, and it has, but I lost the chapter. I found it yesterday whilst sifting through my files. **

* * *

"Harry Potter, is that you?"

Looking up, glassy emeralds met dull brown orbs. "Oh, hello Ms Figg. How are you?"

"It is you! My boy, how have you been? I haven't seen you in a while." Ms Figgs incessant voice invaded Harry's murky thoughts, cutting away the despair that had begun to pool.

"I, uh, I've been at boarding school, Ms Figg," Harry replied, shifting on the swing so he could look at Ms Figg. "I'm good, how are you?"

"Oh, the same as usual, dear." Ms Figg replied, despite the fact that Harry had no idea what 'the usual' would be. Waving her hand airily, she looked about as she spoke. "Mr Whiskers has been sick, and someones taken to Mr Tom. I swear, it was that brute cousin of yours!"

"Ahh." Nodding, Harry felt awkward. He wasn't up to talking to people, let alone someone who was almost a stranger to him. Ms Figg was nice, but really, he had no desire to speak to her. "Yeah, prolly was Dudley, he's been worse this summer…"

She nodded in reply, her purple knitted bare (sp?) wobbling slightly. It clashed horribly with her bright pink house dress and mottled brown over coat.

"Well, I'd best be going, dear," Ms Figg said, quickly looking about as she re-adjusted her shopping bags. "You shouldn't stay out too late, dear, it's _not safe_. You must have seen the news, lately. All those murders and terrorist attacks and what not."

With that, Ms Figg spared him a glance, with a look that he couldn't quite decipher, and quickly turned away. "I'll see you around, dear. Take care."

Shuffling away, her worn blue slippers dragged along the ground as she hurried away. Moving as quickly as she could in her aging state.

Harry watched her go, pondering the look she had given him. Ms Figg always was a strange one, but Harry had always just thought of her as old, lonely, and perhaps, slightly senile. What with her cats, cabbage and old, fuddy-duddy ways. In that moment though, that glance, she seemed to know something. And it bothered Harry.

He never knew things. Never.

Would it be too hard to simply tell him?

Scoffing, Harry shook his head and stretched. He'd been sitting on the same swing all day, and it was starting to get dark. While it had been previously sweltering, it was growing chilly, and even though Harry despised the Dursley's, he wanted to return to the warmth of the house.

Unfortunately, he knew that he wasn't welcome, and it he were to return at all, it had to be well after dark.

In that moment, when Harry had straightened his arms out to stretch, he happened to look over to the park entrance, and spy Dudley and his gang swagger onto the park reserve, roughly pushing past Ms Figg.

Anger spiked as he watched the way Gordon shoved the old lady, brutishly striding past her frail form.

"Oi, Pot-head! What are you doin' here?" Piers cried out. His voice carried over the slight wind, assaulting Harry's ears with his high pitched, whiny voice.

When Harry didn't reply, Piers stomped over to Harry, leaping up onto the mound of dirt on which the swings sat.

"What, you too good for us now?" The brown haired boy spat, leaning in, invading Harry's personal space.

Harry scowled. "Not at all, Piers. I just don't like you, is all."

"You're a real smart arse, ain't yah? What's wrong, want us to leave so you can cry for _Cedric_? Was he your _boyfriend_?"

Dudley.

"Noooo! Don't kill Cedric! Please don't kill Cedric!" The fatter cousin cried, making a poor attempt to imitate Harry at his worst.

Great.

"Funny, Dud. I never knew you pegged me for that sort of guy. Sorry, I don't swing that way," Harry snapped, swallowing harshly to keep his temper in check.

"Oi, what are you sayin'? Big D ain't no queer!" Malcolm butted in, his heavy voice splitting the air, a stark difference to Harry sharp one, and Dudley's leering, taunting one.

Piers snorted, "Yeah, Potter. The only faggot here is you."

"Cedric ain't the only person he cries for," Dudley barked, laughing as Harry's scowl dropped in favour of minute horror. "There's Ginny, and Bumblemore, oh, and _your mummy _too!"

"Shut up!" Harry screamed, standing up and lurching forward on unsteady feet.

Dudley threw his head back and chuckled, completely unperturbed at the sight of an enraged Harry Potter.

"No mummy! Don't go!" Dudley mocked, looking to the side so he could watch his gang laugh at Harry's dispair. But no, he wouldn't stop there.

Why would he?

He'd been raised to berate his freakish cousin.

"Don't kill Cedric!" He cried, "Not Ginny!"

"SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!" Harry screamed, hunching slightly as fought with himself internally.

Dudley took a step backwards, eying his cousin carefully. It didn't stop his laughter though. And Harry couldn't help it, it was everything he supposed. The arrogance of the Dursley's, the way everybody always left him out of the situation, the war, school…everything…

In his hand, he held his wand. He wasn't aware of when he had taken it from his tattered pocket, but now it was clenched in his fist, his palms sweating, and as he stared at Dudley with an honest-to-god hatred, he found that Dudley didn't look so sure. Nor did Piers, Gordon or Malcom.

"You, Dudley, are fucking git. I don't care if you think you are better than me, because what I do know, is that all you'll ever amount to is obesity and a life full of the same old, boring routine. You might have a family, and you might not have to worry about a thing, but at the end of the day, I'd hate to be you. Because you're just a sheep, you don't think for yourself, you just listen to what your parents say, regardless of the truth."

Dudley shook his head, shoving Piers and Malcom backwards into Gordon, as he fought the urge to pummel Harry Potters face in.

"Shut the fuck up freak, and stop your stupid tricks," he spat, spit flying from his mouth as his face turned an odd mixture of pale and puce. An amazing similarity to Vernon.

Harry peered at Dudley like he'd gone insane. Still hunched over as the breeze toyed with his moving fringe. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you fat git."

Dudley's eyes narrowed, but he looked unsure. "I said stop it. Stop your freaky parlour tricks."

Harry scoffed heavily, leaning back. "I don't know what the fucking hell you're tal-…" Harry stopped, having glanced up at the sky. A dark grey, ominous and malevolent in nature, was circling in the skies. The clouds were pooling above the park, almost as though a twister was about to touch down. He glanced back at Dudley, and even though Harry thought Dudley to be of beyond low-intelligence, he could see that Dudley knew Harry wasn't the one doing it.

There was silence for a moment, and in the moment, Harry realised he knew why Ms Figg had given him that look. Surely, she wasn't a witch? It would make _some _sense. She certainly resembled some of the stranger Wizarding folk, but he'd never seen her perform anything mildly mag…..owls. He'd seen owls at her place.

Oh.

_Oh._

Before Harry could ponder more on the subject, a terrible, bone numbing cold crept up out of nowhere. Harry's head snapped back as he looked about reverently. He may not have been sure what it was, but nothing muggle could create that sort of feeling. Absently, he noticed that Piers, Malcolm and Gordon had taken off and were just leaving the park's entrance. Dudley stood, rooted to the spot.

"What is that?" The bigger boy whispered. Harry didn't reply for a moment, but suddenly, the wind picked up. And then it was raining. Out of nowhere, freezing, painful rain pelted them. So they rain. Harry started off first, yelling to Dudley to follow him. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Dudley ask/yell how he could trust a freak. It didn't matter though, because his cousin was hot in his heels.

They made their way to an underpass, the rain attacking the side of the entrance angrily. Harry and Dudley stood panting in the concrete alleyway, staring at each other numbly. Neither knew what to say. In the end, it was Dudley who broke the silence.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Harry wanted to say he didn't know, but that was half a lie. He didn't know _exactly_ what it was, but he knew it was magical. He could feel that magic in the air.

"I dunno, Dud…"

The fatter boy took a step forward suddenly, and despite the fact that he had the most filthy sneer on his face, he was pale a maggot.

"Don't lie to me, freak," He spat, shaking with fear and cold. "You know what that was, I can see it on your face. Tell me what the _fuck_ it was."

Harry tried to shrug but it came of as a strange jiggle. He sighed.

"Look, I don't know what exactly it was, but I know it was magical. And bad. It-"

He was cut off by the most foul, blood curdling rasping noise. As he looked up, he felt the cold of death creep into his bones, and the sight of a Dementor made him freeze.

* * *

Sold his soul to the devil, he says. Oh, the devil, just the devil. Nothing to shock-horror about THE FUCKING DEVIL. You would think that Albus, despite his decrepit age, would be a little bit more fucking realistic.

Today, Edward was feeling pessimistic. Although, that may be obvious.

It was cold, and dank, and his automail port was ringing with a deep ache, right down to the bone. Even after all these years, more than a decade, it never got any better.

Scowling, out of discomfort and irritation, Edward sat in the plush chair the Headmaster had conjured. Slouched and looking forever the discontent teenager. As he sat, waiting for the Headmaster and his staff to arrive, he pondered the offices contents.

To conjure….

Conjure; a magical ability…

It was so wrong, but so…enticing.

He hated it. He hated it so, so much.

The way it made him yearn for the power that accompanied the magic that Albus wielded. The way he could feel the currents in the air change as this 'raw magic' filled the space that an alchemic reaction usually would. It was so strange, to know that magic held the same disposition as Alchemy, but was quite literally, other worldly.

On that thought, his mind drifted to one of it's darkest corners, a place he wished would burn for eternity in hell.

He wondered, in an idle moment, what Truth thought about magic. Or course, Truth had created it, at least to some extent, but wether or not Truth intended for it to be used as such…

However, he was not allowed any more time to think about the worlds as they are, as a voice interrupted his 'peace'.

"I just want to say again Edward, thank you so much for your cooperation. It really is peace of mind to know that somebody of your power and skill is able to protect those within the castle walls."

Edward never thought he would say it about a voice, but good fucking _god_, that voice was one of the most irritating and literally enraging things he had ever heard.

"Ah, yes Delores, I must agree. It is certainly a great asset to have Mr Elric fulfil such a roll."

And there goes Dumbledore. At least the old coot wasn't as dense as to be so blatant as Delores. No one likes a suck up, and that said, she'd openly, and not in the least subtly, knocked Dumbledore.

Edward didn't like to blow his own pipe, and he wouldn't. But to say, to imply, that he was more powerful than Dumbledore was a bit ridiculous. He didn't know the first thing about Magic, actually, that was one of the reasons that he'd accepted Dumbledore's proposition, after much more debate, but Dumbledore was obviously one of the most powerful Magical's there are. Even if you didn't like him, there'd be no denying it.

Edward rolled his eyes, and ignored Umbridge. Really, it was no skin off his back if she didn't like him, and he wasn't about to go out of his way to make her do so, either.

"So, Dumbledore, when does school start? You didn't specify that after explaining the job position."

"Yes, Mr Elric, I'm sorry to say I'd forgotten to do so. School officially starts on September the 1st when the students board the Hogwarts Express. However, it is on the 3rd that classes start, again."

Edward nodded, and looked to door, just as the rest of the staff seemed to be arriving.

Strolling in the large door way, came a variety of people. All of them, even the most incompetent (like Umbridge), held the air of a teacher. Something that Ed both despised and respected.

Smiling like he does, Albus turned and welcomed his staff warmly, as Edward stared with open curiosity. These people and their ways, are certainly…different. But dangerous. Oh, no doubt, are they dangerous.

"Ah, Severus, Minerva, Pomona! You all look well, a good day?"

A very tall, thin man sneered at Albus, although it obviously held no real distaste. The man looked at Albus with dark eyes, his shoulder length, greasy hair obscuring the sides of his face.

"As good as one can be when the impending hell of those brats looms above ones head," the man, Severus, snapped.

Inwardly, Edward agreed. Teenagers, would be hell to teach. He would know, he'd been one of the worst.

"Severus," a stout woman hissed, "Stop being such a sour-puss, you'd have no job if it weren't for those 'brats'," she admonished, shaking her head as she moved past him and took a seat in a newly conjured chair, taking no notice of Edward or the way he jumped violently upon seeing another inanimate object just randomly appear.

The tall man rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, with Edward could fairly assume to be an insult, as he too moved to take a seat, this one directly across from Edward.

As the man sat down, he cast a glance in Edward's direction, before his eyes just slide over his position. The man seemed to take no notice of it, however, and continued to look around the office. He did, however, continuously glance back to him, paranoia in his eyes.

A taller woman, taller than the woman who snapped at 'Severus', strode across the room with quick, graceful strides, and stood beside Albus. This, Edward concluded in his mind, must be Minerva McGonagall.

Also to enter the room, was five more people, which Albus introduced immediately.

"Edward, I am pleased to introduce my staff. This is Sybil Trawnley, our Seer and Divination professor."

"Ahh….I see a great future in you boy, great but full of darkness…" this woman, Sybil, stuttered. She took a lurching footstep forward, her arm reaching out to touch the chair in which Edward sat. He regarded her with caution, and just a smidgen of what could be akin to being, 'weirded out'. Shifting to the opposite side of the chair, Edward's eyes watched her with caution. Before he could speak however, she continued. "…your death is near, boy. You will perish, and when you do, so will those who fought for so long…"

* * *

_**Water. Earth. Fire. Air. **_

_**My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. **_

_**But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. **_

_**Only the Avatar mastered all four elements. Only he could stop the ruthless firebenders…**_

…_**but when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the War. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the Fire Nation, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. **_

_**..some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Air Nomads, and that the cycle is broken…**_

_**But I haven't lost hope. I still believe, that somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world.**_

In the early days, we didn't know much. We had only ever lived on the tribes land. But we learnt to survive, to care, and to live with what we had. The only men in the village were either very old, or newborn. Almost immediately, I took up the role that my mother had. I looked after people who were sick, I cooked, cleaned and just did what I could for our village.

Then, as a young teenager, my brother Sokka and I found a boy named Aang. He was frozen in the ice! At first, I didn't quite understand, I didn't really believe. But my disbelief lasted all but a few short moments, in comparison to the journey we had ahead.

To think, we had found the _Avatar_!

It was a joyful moment! We hand found our salvation..

But our salvation wasn't ready.

And then, we went on a search for knowledge and skill. Aang learnt to fire bend, to water bend, to earth bend. Sokka got stronger, and better at fighting. I learnt more techniques, and a style of water-bending that I am happy to say is all but dead. We met amazing people, like Toph, and Zuko, and even to an extent, Azula.

There were people from all sides, fighting for all sorts of reasons. Good, and bad.

I can't say that I support the Fire Nation, I can't condone the way Azula sought oppression and power. I find it horrible that Ozai would even think of such a dictatorship. The adrenaline that accompanies fear as we struggled to stay ahead of the Dai Lee, Combustion Man….

And I can't say I didn't fear some of our enemies.

But, after it all, it was worth it.

In short, we won the war. We stopped the Fire Nation from ruling all four Kingdoms.

We grew old together. We had families.

We were happy.

But now…people are dying again…

Deaths are occurring, to bender and non alike. Fire, Water, Earth and Air. It isn't a war between the elements, it's against it. And it's scares me. Because Aang isn't here anymore. Neither is Sokka, or Zuko..

Azula, is still imprisoned. As far as I know, neither her nor Mei have departed our plane yet. The cities have grown, and there is harmony between the people.

So when deaths just started popping up, I didn't think it could be something so…evil.

There are people who hate benders.

I never thought it possible, but then again, I've always _been_ a bender.

They are called _Equalists_. And their leader, or at least, their violent and very forceful mascot, is Amon.

There is something so very sinister about this man, yet I can't even begin to fathom why I could fear him. He has a terrible power; the power to take ones bending.

Why would you do that?

What sick individual would steal such a natural and beautiful gift?

Amon. That is who.

I do fear that he may rise to considerable power, but at the moment, my fears lay elsewhere.

The deaths. These deaths are happening all over the United Republic of Nations. No one is exempt. None of our people can find a link between the murders, nothing that sets a chain.

At first, it was suspected that it was a hate-murder-spree against any bender; as all three of the first murders were of benders. But the forth dispelled this idea. A non bender, with no relations to any bender at all. No friends, family, co-workers or partners.

We still have no clue about the motive, but all we know, is that the killer is sick.

He, or she, leaves twisted diagrams and drawings in the blood of the victim. They are always precise, and they are always in the same place. Right below the victim. _Underneath_ them.

From various people we have consulted, there have been a number of possibilities to what these drawings could be.

Voodoo, black magic, ritualistic bending, magic, alchemy, or summoning in the most basic form.

Nothing makes sense.

But…I'm getting old. I'm getting very old.

Our world doesn't need another war.

We have our new Avatar. A young girl named Korra. She is strong, and lively. Having mastered three of the elements already; Water, Earth, Fire. She now lives in Republic City, learning the art of Air Bending from Tenzin, my youngest son.

From what I've been told, she is doing well in theory. But if she cannot calm her mind, and bring herself to peace, she will go nowhere.

As a much as it pains me to admit it, I fear she will need all her power in the coming future. I do not wish to see another war. I do not wish to see more death, and fear.

But these deaths are unholy, and I believe they are a sign.

I know I won't live through this war, but I hope with all my heart, and my soul, that this world does.

_-Katara, United Republic of Nations, 170 ASC_

* * *

** I honestly do not know what to make of this. Oh well ehe. **

**-TC**


End file.
